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#thought of this while i was trying to come up with something for this prompt
edenesth · 1 day
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TWTHH Spinoff: Love to Hate You [Teaser]
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Pairing: royal secretary!San x female scholar!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Summary: San prided himself on his knack for building easy connections with women, viewing himself as a trusted ally for the opposite gender. Thanks to his deep bonds with his mother and sister, he possessed keen insights into the female mindset. Never did he imagine facing the ire of a woman, until he encountered a resolute female scholar with a strong dislike towards men.
A/N: Once again, special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for coming up with the main concept of San's spinoff.
Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist
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"I'm just trying to help, Scholar Moon," the royal secretary insisted, his arms emptying as the stack of books he was previously carrying was abruptly snatched away by the newly acquainted female scholar.
You scoffed in response, "I don't remember asking for your help, sir. I understand it must be quite intriguing to meet a female scholar for the first time. However, there's a reason I'm the first. I'm not your typical damsel in distress. I don't need saving. While you may be used to women swooning at your feet, rest assured, I won't be one of them."
San stood in stunned silence as he watched you storming off in a fit of anger, completely taken aback by your hostile response to his well-intentioned gesture.
He had stumbled upon you as you exited the royal library burdened with a stack of borrowed books, his innate helpfulness and gentlemanly nature immediately prompted him to offer assistance without hesitation. But rather than the customary grateful smile and expression of thanks he anticipated, he couldn't believe he was met with such an unexpected and vehement reaction.
Did I... do something wrong?
A court lady standing nearby widened her eyes in disbelief. "Did you seriously just say that? Do you even know who he is?"
You rolled your eyes dismissively. "Probably just a eunuch, why?" you retorted, waving off her concern. "I doubt any high-ranking officials would pay me any mind."
"Well, you're correct about that. He's not a high-ranking official, but he is someone close to the King. He's the royal secretary," she disclosed, causing your heart to nearly stop as you gaped at her.
He's the what?!
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I'll do my best to get the first part out as soon as I can! Hope you're excited about Sannie's spinoff hehe as always, let me know your thoughts on the concept! <3
Tag list (1/9): Tumblr is a bitch and won't let me mention more than 5 users in a single sentence, so now my tag list looks like a complete joke🤡
@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr |
@cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline |
@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |
@vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho |
@vic0921 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid |
@sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @myblovedjyh @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings |
@chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories |
@anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @dollce-exe @jan-l |
@lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim |
@scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa |
@ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 |
@naps-over-degree @idfkeddieishot @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @jcalicocatj
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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wrong number
'you get a phone call and find out it's a wrong number but realize that you don't want to stop talking to the person at the other end. come to find out, he's from another decade.’
eddie munson x reader/ eddie munson x gn!reader
warning(s): cursing, au (not sure if it would be considered an au but imma put it), mention of modern time. I'm just putting tags I'm not even sure what to tag this under. lmk if there are more.
a/n: prompt # 4 from the strangerprompts by @allthingsjoeq @somnambulic-thing and @bettyfrommars. mkay, I've never done these types of things or participated before, but yknow, I took a shot and I liked it lol so thank you guys!
"What?"
Your voice was nothing short of clipped. The results of hearing your phone vibrate too many times for you to tolerate another call going unanswered.
It was abnormal in your opinion. To receive this many calls from the same number within a short time.
While sure, you occasionally complained about the lack of service that came through the device due to your inability to actually hold a relationship with anybody, much less a conversation, this isn't what you were looking for.
And if your shortness wasn't clear enough before, your annoyance must've been by the way you questioned a 'hello,' with a lifted brow. Not really saying it as one should when normally speaking to someone. That was, if anyone was even on the other side.
"Uh, hello." The voice imitated your previous tone, pulling out the last vowel as he sung it.
He.
If you had to guess, probably no more than your age.
"Huh, so you can speak? You know you could've begun with that? When someone picks up the phone after being called, who knows how many times," you state through your teeth, "the least you could do is have the decency to actually say something when they answer."
"Y’know I don’t like your tone, we’re going to try this again.” He mouthed.
“Wait, what? No-”
He hung up before you could refuse. Your phone pulled away from your ear as your mind tried to catch up with what just happened. And in the midst of that, your phone vibrated, again.
Your finger hovered over the button as you eyed the device, sliding it over when you’d been staring long enough.
“Hello?” You questioned, unsure. The shift in your tone is clearly obvious.
“You learn quickly.”
The same voice replied back, and his response had you narrowing your eyes.
Asshole.
“I had said it before. You were the one who needed the lesson in how to answer back.” You reiterate.
“Well, m’not about to respond to somebody who starts a conversation with 'what.' I mean, have you no manners?" The guy said. You could hear the lilt in his voice and how he seemed to be grinning on the other side, but you had to shake your head from thinking any further on it because there was still a question that you'd been meaning to ask.
"Who are you?"
"It's your conscience, clearly I haven't been able to get through to you which is why you're probably lacking, well, manners, but- worry not, for I am here."
You weren't sure if it was you still trying to comprehend everything that's happened in the last few minutes, or that this guy knew how to pull conversation so easily that you went along with it- but you hadn't even realized he never properly answered or that he just lowkey called you out on something you knew was evident to a blind person.
And you didn't even correct him, and rather than just hang up on someone you didn't know, you stayed on the phone and chose to enlighten him.
"Hm, so that's what that was? Who would've thought I'd have one of those," you sighed and shrugged, leaning back against the bed frame. You could hear him snort at the small insult you'd given yourself, hearing the feign in your voice was enough to let him know your humor was in tack.
It made you grin. The first of many, and the first in a while to tell the truth. You also couldn't stop yourself from thinking about how this was probably the longest conversation you've ever held with someone.
"I'm Eddie." His voice pulled you from your thoughts, trying to catch up in the moments you'd been away.
"Huh?"
You could hear chuckling before it was repeated. "My name. You asked me who I was."
Eddie.
It didn't sound familiar. You didn't know anyone named Eddie, but then again, you didn't really know anyone and you had questioned it when you guy's began talking. It was a number you'd never seen before either so there was that.
You hadn't realized you'd been quiet until Eddie spoke.
"Y'know, this is where you tell me your name." He remarked. "We really gotta work on your communication skills and social cues." Unbeknownst to you though, since you only just met the guy, he shouldn't be one to talk.
You let out something between a scoff and a breathy chuckle before telling him yours. And Eddie repeated what you did moments ago- saying your name under his breath, to himself- as if he was worried he'd forget it in those few seconds.
It was easy to get into conversation with him, primarily because he kept pulling you into things he’d knew would get a response out of you. Like saying shit that you’d end up reprimanding him for because it annoyed you.
He knew that, and you weren’t so sure you liked how transparent you seemed to be. You’d known him for only a short time and he already knew how to push your buttons. Which you told him but his response was anything but what you expected it to be. He simply shrugged it off, telling you that ‘you let it get to you.’
To which you rebutted fully knowing he was right, which annoyed you more. Though other than that, the conversation between you two had been decent.
There were a few times when you had been confused by what he’d been speaking about, but you just assumed it was the way he was. I mean, the guy spent- you’re guessing- most of his time today calling the wrong number, only to hang up on you just to call you again because he didn’t like your tone. And then went on to call you out on your shit, which by the way, you still haven’t let go of. Either way, you just thought that what he was talking about, was how he spoke. A sort of slang, you know? I mean, now, that’s all people use these days.
Who were you to question it? It’s not like you could ask anybody what it meant. You weren’t even sure what the words were yourself. I mean you did but nobody said that sort of thing anymore.
There were a few moments of silence that occurred, mainly between your guys' turns in speaking. It wasn’t until you heard him on his end that you asked what he’d been up to. He kept muttering something under breath.
Well, it was more him humming, every other minute or so though you’d hear a word, and the more he hummed- the more familiar it sounded.
“Is that…..Metallica?” You peeked, unsure if you were right. His side went quiet the second you said it, and you could assume it was because you were likely wrong in your guess.
“Y-You know Metallica?” Eddie enounced. He was standing upright, his previous stance of leaning on the frame gone, as he stood there with wide eyes and mouth agape at your sudden query.
So you were right.
“Uh, yes.” It came out sounding like a question rather than you stating the obvious. “My Uncle used to listen to them. Whenever he came over when I was younger, that was all I’d ever hear. He’d tell us he grew up on them, so it was only right that we did too.” You explained. Eddie’s mouth stretched up at hearing your words, too caught up in the story to comprehend what you just said.
“I’ve never-” and then it hit him. His brows pinched together as he pulled the phone away from his ear. Did he hear you right?  “Wait…grew up on them?” If it hadn’t been for the way you told the story, as if it actually happened, he would’ve thought you were pulling his leg. And you probably were so he just reacted logically. He chuckled. “Mkay, right right.” 
It was your turn to pinch your face together, not understanding his sudden shift or why he was chuckling to begin with. “What? It’s true. The man grew up on them.” You raised, still clearly confused by his response.
“Mhm, sure.” You could hear the way he pulled the word, like he wasn’t convinced at all. Why was it so hard for him to get that what you were saying was true? “He’d have to be my age, kid.” He voiced.
W-What? 
“Excuse me?” You uttered, sitting up from your bed frame. Not only were you confused but you were getting a little freaked out. He sounded young, your age, give or take. There was no way you had been conversing with a guy in his 50’s.
“You heard me, he’d have to be my age. There’s no way this guy grew up on them. The band isn’t even that old, it hasn’t been that long. I mean, I get we were joking before but man, you really got me there. I almost fell for it!” Eddie said. “How old are you?” He managed through his breathy laughs.
You could feel your heart pick up, the genuineness clear in his voice. He really thought you were joking, that everything you just said in the last few minutes was made up. But it hadn’t been and that’s what had you getting up from your bed. This was beginning to be too much for you.
“E-Eddie, what are you talking about? You’re freaking me out.”
And suddenly it wasn’t so amusing anymore. His face fell upon hearing your tone. The humor he once found in the situation, now gone, as he stared ahead. You sounded worried, alarmed even. It was quiet for a few seconds until he spoke, his tongue swiped his bottom lip before he did so.
“Uhm, look t-this isn’t-” his hand wiped down his face. “W-What are you talking about, man? One minute we're laughing and joking around and the next you’re telling me about your Uncle growing up on Metallica. There’s no way! Mkay?” He was getting agitated, visibly shaken up as he thought about you on the other side in the same state. “Like I said, the band isn’t even that old. It's only been a couple of years, it’s 1986 for christ sake!” And though he had been saying it all so fast, you still understood them. It’s why you felt yourself unable to move upon hearing his last few words.
1986. 
The numbers repeated over and over in your head as you stood there. 
“W-What?” You stuttered, voice shaky as you asked. It wasn’t possible. “It’s not!” You raise, your hands moving with a mind of their own as you swiped out of where you were and looked at the screen. In the corner of your phone, the current date stared back. The time you were currently in. As in, right now. You could hear Eddie speaking but because you didn’t have it against your ear, you couldn’t tell what exactly he’d been saying.
It’s not possible, it's not possible, it’s not.
He said it like it was true. He didn't just think it was 86', he was saying it like he knew it was. It was just impossible, the year he said, wasn’t the year you were in.
You lifted the phone back up to your ear, hands unable to keep still as you look ahead. Your eyes glassy as you spoke.
“Who are you?”
Eddie’s breath picked up at the way you questioned it, your voice at a whisper. He ran his hand through his hair again, already disheveled from how many times he’d done it prior to when you went quiet.
“I told you. My name is Eddie....and it's 1986."
Your eyes shut as he uttered his name, the lack of deceit evident.
a/n: I wasn't sure how to end it.
feedback and reblogs are appreciated.
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liveontelevision · 2 days
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Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.
You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas
I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.
Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡
Honey | Lucifer x Reader
No smut, just some cute fluff here-
♡♡♡
As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.
Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.
Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.
"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.
"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.
"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.
"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.
"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.
“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.
The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.
You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.
As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 
"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.
"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.
"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 
"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.
"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.
"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.
Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.
"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.
"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.
"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.
"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.
The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.
As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.
You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.
It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.
It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.
"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.
There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.
"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.
"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.
"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.
Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.
Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).
This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.
Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 
"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.
"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.
“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.
“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.
With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.
"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.
“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.
"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.
"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?
"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.
You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.
Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 
"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.
"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.
"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.
“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.
“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.
“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.
The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 
"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.
"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?
"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.
"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.
"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.
"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.
"Of course I don't.." He muttered.
"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.
"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.
You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.
"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.
“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 
“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.
“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.
With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.
“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 
Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.
"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.
"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.
"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.
"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.
♡♡♡
I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends
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zoeykallus · 2 days
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Hello there!
Would you mind giving us something angsty? Like, Reader confesses her love to the batchers (and maybe Rex and Mayday?). They do feel the same, but they react in the wrong way somehow, so that reader gets hurt, but in the end there is something like a happy end? Like separate little short fics or one-shots.
I know that's probably a lot of work, so please don't feel pressured to do this.
Aloha! Yeah, I think I can do that 😊
The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions
Part 1/7 - Tech
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Warnnings: Love Confessions/Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Fluff
Masterlist Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)
AC: I tried to tackle this one with the thought in mind that Tech is/might be in some autistic spectrum. Now please don't throw any stones at me, I have no real life experience on that subject, so I kinda wrote this one the way I feel Tech after almost three season.
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You've had feelings for him for a while now. Your heart beats faster, you feel warm when he approaches you and your eyes meet. You could listen to him day and night, no matter what he talks about. You think a part of him knows this, must know it, because when he discovers something new and wants to tell someone about it, he usually comes to you automatically. Because you listen to him attentively, every time. Your feelings go beyond friendship, you long to be close to him, you miss him every second he's not around. But you know Tech is somehow different. Sometimes he's very forthcoming, seems to enjoy being around you, but other times, he's more distant, almost as if he's trying to keep you at arm's length, as if he can't handle your presence right now. You have no idea how exactly to assess this behavior, it often feels like a roller coaster ride. It's not always easy to deal with and adjust to. But you want to do the right thing, so you don't push him when you realize he's pulling away, even if it hurts.
But one day, you summon up all your courage. Tech and you are working on damage to the outer hull of the Marauder. Until just now, he was telling you about his idea to improve the alloy for the metal of the outer hull and how he plans to make certain modifications to the ship in the future. Now, however, there is a brief pause, and you continue to work in silence. Your gaze wanders thoughtfully from his helmet, which is resting on a toolbox behind him, back to him Your heart is pounding in your throat, your hands are even shaking a little as you decide to finally tell him, to tell him how you feel about him. "Tech?" His name comes over your lips, almost like a whisper. He heard you, though. Normally he would answer you and listen without looking up from his work, but something about the way you say his name catches his attention this time. He pauses, turns his head in your direction and looks at you, his eyes widening a little. "What's wrong?"
His gaze, those beautiful eyes, like dark brown amber. Your knees go weak. You try to hold his gaze, but every now and then, you blink and look to the side before looking at him again as you speak. "There's something I need to tell you" His brows move up questioningly. "Is it something important?" You hesitate for a second before saying, "I guess it's a matter of opinion. It's very important to me" Surprised, you watch as Tech puts down his tools and turns to you. "Then let me hear it," he says promptly. Now you have his undivided attention. Your stomach is tingling, your heart is doing wild tricks in your chest. Your mouth goes dry, and you hastily reach for the water bottle to take a few sips. As you put the bottle down, your hand trembles so much that you can barely put the bottle down properly. Tech doesn't miss this, of course, his brows draw together in concern, but he waits silently for you to tell him. "I have feelings for you," you suddenly say so quickly, with a look on your face as if you were ripping off a band-aid. Then you smile nervously, inwardly cursing at yourself.
He stands there, motionless, and looks at you. Occasionally he blinks. You don't know what you were expecting, but some kind of reaction would have been nice. You nervously hold your breath.
"Romantic?" he finally asks after what feels like an eternity.
You finally dare to breathe again. He sounds thoughtful, confused, maybe even overwhelmed, but you can't quite put your finger on it right now, your own thoughts and your heartbeat are so incredibly loud.
"Yes, Tech. You know, accelerated pulse when you're near me, tingly feeling in my stomach, the need to be close to you, to want to please you. Bittersweet nervousness..."
For a moment, he looks at you as if you have a rare disease that might be contagious, and your stomach tightens at the sight. You regret saying a single word. "I'm not sure how to deal with this," he says thoughtfully, averting his eyes, "I can't... process" You can't help but stare at him helplessly. You feel the blood drain from your face, and your whole body suddenly seems to become much heavier. You swallow and say in a helpless attempt to pretend everything is okay, "It's okay, Tech, we don't have to talk about it" You turn back to your work, avert your gaze, and you miss Tech's confused, questioning look as he asks, "Don't we have to? You said it's important to you" "No," you say and put the tool to work, "We don't have to, everything can just stay the way it was before" He looks at you silently for a while longer, lost in his thoughts, before resuming his work. _______ Over the next few days, you hardly speak a word, in fact you avoid him. You feel like an idiot, hurt and exposed. The thought that Tech knows about your feelings makes you feel like you're walking around naked and every one of his questioning, scrutinizing glances weighs heavily on you.
One evening, as you sit alone in the cockpit, you hear someone walk toward you, and by now you can already tell that Tech is approaching by the sound of his footsteps. You shrink into the co-pilot's seat and focus obsessively on the datapad in your hands. As he says your name, your shoulders shrink down, you try to make yourself even smaller, you don't look up as you answer, "Yes?" His voice sounds soft, but still in his very own matter-of-fact way, as he says, "A few days ago, when you told me about your feelings, you said we didn't have to talk about it and everything could be the same. But it's not. You're avoiding me, avoiding eye contact. I realized that my first reaction made you feel insecure, probably even gave you the wrong impression. I've come to the conclusion that nothing is the same as before and that there is a real need to talk about it" You sigh softly and ask, "Is there something on your mind?" Instead of answering, Tech leans down towards you. Surprised and a little startled, your eyes do wander in his direction. He kisses your cheek gently and chastely, then sits down in the pilot's seat.
Your fingers automatically move to the spot where his lips touched your cheek, leaving a soft, tingling sensation. You feel warm, but at the same time you are confused and can't help but stare at him questioningly. "After some time to process what I've heard, said and felt, I've realized that these feelings are apparently mutual. I hope that's not a problem" You blink several times and straighten up a little in your seat. A soft smile at the corners of your mouth. "That's not a problem, Tech, not at all" He nods, smiling. "Good, so we can explore this new territory together, right?" You resist the urge to fall around his neck, you know that Tech processes things differently, especially in the interpersonal sphere, that he takes longer and values physical contact very differently. You nod, your smile a little wider. "I'd love to, Tech," you say softly. Your heart almost leaps out of your chest with joy as he reaches for your hand, tentatively at first, but eventually with gentle determination. With a cautious smile, he says, "I hope you'll be patient with me" You laugh softly, gently, and beam at him as you reply, "I have all the time in the world for you, Tech"
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somber-sapphic · 16 hours
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Hii!! Been a fan of your of your stuff for a while now, could I please request Nat x reader with maybe Nat coming back home from a mission sick or something? using prompts: "Could you pass me a tissue, please?" + “I think I caught something. My head is pounding." + “Let me fuss over you."
Thanks!!
Healing Hours
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〖Summary: Natasha returns early from a mission with a bad case of the flu.〗
〖Word Count: 1.3k〗
〖Pairing: Sick Natasha x R〗
〖Notes: I hope you all enjoy this!〗
You sighed and slammed your book shut, unable to on the words on the page. Natasha was supposed to be back from her mission in two days and you were a mixture of excited and nervous. She had been radio silent for days, only sending messages concerning the mission. 
That meant no sweet texts to you, only communication with Cap and Tony.
It was standard for a mission like this, she was in a potentially dangerous situation and to minimize any danger they minimized contact. Even though you understood it didn’t mean you had to like it. You had continued to train while she was away, the physical act of hitting something distracting you from your anxiety. If you could keep your energy up you could keep the emotions at bay. 
With a frustrated groan you pulled out your laptop, resigning yourself to some YouTube cat compilations. Those usually held your attention, and it helped that cats were adorable. Maybe you could convince Tony to let you have a cat, if you laid out a good enough argument he might let you. 
For a while you let yourself be captured by the videos moving across the screen, watching the pixelated cats fall off of things only to get up unharmed, attack humans, and be afraid of toasters. You were pulled out of your feline trance by a slight jiggle of your doorknob.
You looked up from your laptop, staring at the door handle and reaching for your weapon. No one was supposed to come into your room, and you had strict rules about knocking before opening the door. You grasped the smooth handle of the knife under your pillow, tensing your body in preparation for a fight. 
There were a million thoughts swirling through your mind, how had someone gotten into the tower? Why hadn’t FRIDAY alerted you? Were the others safe? 
A dark silhouette appeared in the doorway, and you threw your knife, the blade sinking into the wood of the door frame beside the person's head. It was a warning shot, you didn’t miss. Your goal was to scare the person off to avoid an altercation that you didn’t want to get into.
“Jesus Y/n, what the fuck was that?” A raspy voice asked, someone flicked on the light illuminating a very grumpy-looking Natasha. She walked into the room and threw her toolbelt onto the dresser, being much less careful than she usually was. She loved that belt; it had saved her life many times and she always handled it with care. 
“You fucking scared me! You’re supposed to be in Latvia, not breaking into my bedroom!” You shot back, lowering yourself against the headboard, the tension leaving your body. The adrenaline coursing through your veins began to calm down, slowing your rapid heartbeat. 
“And you’re supposed to be asleep, it's 2:00 in the morning.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 
“Like you're any better,” Your words trailed off as a sharp sneeze cut through the room, leaving Natasha hunched over and sniffing. 
“Why are you back early?” Suspicion laced your words as you took in her disheveled appearance. When she was in uniform, she went to extensive efforts to make herself look professional even in a more relaxed setting. 
This time her clothes were slightly wrinkled, and her hair was a mess. You didn’t expect her to look picture-perfect after coming back from a mission, but she did try to make herself look stoic coming home to impress the men. She turned to face you, revealing an unnatural flush to her cheeks and red-chapped nostrils, the telltale signs of the flu. 
“I think I caught something; my head is pounding. Steve pulled me, decided I wasn’t healthy enough to be in the field. He threatened to come and get me himself.” She mumbled, sniffling again. She rubbed her nose against her sleeve and coughed into the air. 
You smiled at the idea, picturing her arguing with Steve who would seriously come and get her if he felt the need. 
“Okay love, go get showered and I’ll get some supplies. Do you think you’ll be okay to do it by yourself?” You asked, concerned that she might fall over if left alone. Natasha rolled her eyes, wincing at the motion. She shook her head slightly as if to clear it then nodded.
“I’ll be fine. Just want to get it over with, then sleep.” 
“Yeah, I bet you do. It’ll feel really good I promise.” When you heard the shower running you climbed out of bed, getting to work. You rifled through the drawers of your bedside table and pulled out a bottle of Nyquil alongside a thermometer, a box of tissues, and a bag of cough drops, all things left over from the last time you’d gotten sick. 
Next, you tiptoed into the kitchen and got a glass of water and one of juice, not wanting to make tea until Natasha asked for it. She rarely drank it and you knew she didn’t like it but you’d be happy if she consumed any fluids. 
When you returned to your room you were surprised to find your shivering girlfriend curled up in the bed, her wet hair splayed out over the pillow. You’d only been gone for ten minutes tops, you hadn’t expected her to have showered so quickly. 
“Did you enjoy your shower?” You asked, setting the glasses of water and juice on the small table by her side of the bed. She shrugged and sniffled thickly, rubbing her fist against her red nose. 
“Could you pass me a tissue please?” Her voice was so stuffy, poor thing sounded awful. And she didn’t look much better, not that you would tell her that. You grabbed a tissue from the already prepared box and pressed it into her hand, turning a way to simulate privacy as she blew her nose weakly. 
“Oh, my sweet Natty, you really don’t feel well do you…” You muttered, more to yourself than to her. Natasha nodded and turned to look at you with a pout set on her chapped lips. Barely three seconds later her gaze unfocused and she snapped forward with a rough sneeze that she didn’t have time to cover. 
“Okay well that wet hair isn’t going to help. Sit up for me, take some medicine, and I’ll dry your hair while we watch a movie.” The redhead did what you instructed, lifting herself onto the pillows with a wheezy sigh. 
You poured out a dose of the medication and watched her drink it, making sure that she got all of it. The gulp of “grape” flavored goop was quickly followed by half a glass of juice. You were internally pleased with the amount of juice she had just willingly drank, usually keeping her hydrated was a chore. 
“Get comfy and pick a movie, I’ll grab the hair dryer.” She settled on Jaws for reasons that you couldn’t explain. You knew she loved it but you didn’t exactly consider it a good sick day movie. It didn’t matter, she already looked half asleep. You doubted she’d make it through the first act even with the sound of the hair dryer. 
“C’mere baby, let me fuss over you.” You climbed into bed and pulled her into your lap, positioning her so that she was laying back against you with her head on your chest. Just as you’d predicted it didn’t take long for her eyes to start drooping, the sound and warmth of the hair dryer seemed to be lulling her to sleep. 
“M’sorry for getting sick.” She mumbled, a huge yawn escaping her lips. You rubbed her shoulder and pulled the blankets up around her, making sure that she was comfortable. 
“No apologizes necessary Nat. You just relax, I’ll be right here when you wake up.” 
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sincerelyyycece · 2 days
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you frustrate me incredibly, sweetheart.
Who knew that having Remus Lupin as your academic rival could be so enjoyable?
note: classic academic rivals to lovers trope, remus lupin calling you sweetheart ACK
tags: @burningwitchprincess
sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.
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Y/N Y/L/N stood out as an exceptional individual, effortlessly excelling in all endeavours. Her professors held her in high regard, and her peers looked up to her with a mix of admiration and envy, yearning to emulate her brilliance or bask in her presence. Within her academic department, she held a prominent position, often the subject of conversation and admiration, embodying the epitome of "brains and beauty."
Confident in her abilities, Y/N never fretted about being outshone academically, firmly believing in her own supremacy. While she garnered some rivals, she dismissed them as unworthy of her attention, except for one: Remus Lupin. Despite her initial disbelief, Remus once surpassed her in one of her favoured subjects, leaving Y/N both bewildered and intrigued. From that moment on, Remus became her foremost academic rival.
Y/N found amusement in besting Remus at class activities, relishing in her victories, yet seething with jealousy whenever Remus claimed an award she coveted. Their rivalry provided a captivating spectacle and a source of entertainment that heightened the stakes of academic achievement.
Their ongoing rivalry stretched across countless months, captivating everyone as they eagerly watched the intense competition between them. She harboured a strong disdain for him, and she suspected Remus felt similarly. Yet, as the saying goes, the boundary between love and hate can be remarkably thin.
It all began in the Care of Magical Creature class. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment or reason, but whenever she laid eyes on Remus, a strange sensation gripped her.
As he presented his project to the audience, something about his demeanour made him unexpectedly appealing. When did he become so captivating? She hadn't even realized she was admiring him until their eyes met. Caught off guard, she quickly averted her gaze, trying to regain her composure. What just happened? She sighed in frustration, closing her eyes momentarily.
From then on, conflicting emotions about him plagued her thoughts incessantly. He occupied her mind entirely, and she yearned to free herself from his influence. The situation grew increasingly perplexing for her. She went to great lengths to avoid him, strategically ensuring they never crossed paths in class. Despite this, she remained actively engaged in her studies, except when Remus was involved.
She believed she'd successfully dodged him. Keyword: almost. En route to her next class, she found herself abruptly pulled into an empty classroom. Just as she was gearing up to give the stranger a piece of her mind, he beat her to it. "Why are you avoiding me?" came an all-too-familiar voice, causing her to tense. "Well?" he prodded.
"I'm not avoiding you, Lupin," she replied, turning to confront him. "I'm simply preoccupied with my studies," she shrugged. Remus emitted a small snort and remarked, "Please. You can come up with a better excuse than that, sweetheart." The endearment melted her, but she pretended to grimace at it, retorting, "I've asked you not to call me that."
"Not until you enlighten me on the genuine cause of your avoidance," he interjected, clearly teasing. "I've told you, I'm swamped with my academics!" she protested. He responded with a buzzer-like noise akin to those in TV game shows. "Incorrect. Try again," he prompted. "This is so ridiculous," she groaned. Once more, he replicated the sound, drawing out the exchange. "Ugh, I can't stand you!" she finally exploded. That's not true.
"That's not true," Remus interjected, almost as if he were privy to her thoughts. "What?" she murmured softly. "You don't hate me," he remarked with such ease, as though it were a commonplace observation. Her eyebrows furrowed. "What leads you to believe that?" she inquired, hoping to conceal her nerves. "I just have a feeling," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging.
"And what basis does this feeling have?" she pressed, her patience waning as his responses remained terse. "Just a hunch," he reiterated. "You're not making any sense," she protested. "If we're finished with this conversation, I need to head to class. I'm already running late."
As she moved toward the door, he halted her with a sudden confession, addressing her by her first name, a departure from his usual address. She turned back, silently urging him to continue. "I don't hate you," he admitted. Her expression twisted in confusion. "But you do," she retorted.
Remus shook his head, his smile unwavering. "No, really," she persisted. "You hate me!" Once again, Remus refuted her claim. She sighed inwardly in frustration. "Then why have you been competing with me relentlessly? Why strive so hard for the top spot if you don't harbour any animosity towards me?" she demanded.
"I confess," Remus began, "the only reason I've been your constant rival is because it was the only way to capture your attention." He paused as he noticed her silence, then added, "Your intellect has always fascinated me. I've admired you from afar, too intimidated to approach you directly. So, I engaged in every debate, competition, and challenge to ensure your focus was on me, if only for those moments when our minds clashed."
With a deep breath, he continued, "But now, I want more than just rivalry. I want to be the one you choose, the one you love."
My demeanour softened at his confession. I had mistaken his competitiveness for mutual hatred, yet he had been tirelessly vying for my attention all along. His confession made me realize his feelings for me. As Remus anxiously waited for my response, I finally spoke up, saying, "I've spent countless hours competing against you, but I've come to a realization." Remus visibly relaxed upon hearing my voice. "I no longer desire competition. Instead, I want to work with you, beside you, because... because I've fallen in love with you too."
He flashed a grin and remarked, "You frustrate me incredibly, sweetheart." I responded with a smile, quipping, "It's my forte."
With that, he tenderly encircled his arms around my waist, murmuring, "Can I kiss you?" I couldn't help but chuckle as I noticed the hint of a pout on his lips. He pleaded, "Pretty please?" I closed my eyes, leaning in to meet his lips. The kiss unfolded languidly as if we were relishing each other's presence. As he eventually drew back, he sported a foolish grin. He jestingly remarked, "Perhaps this is my finest reward yet." I couldn't help but snort at his cheesy humour.
Their lips met again in a moment that seemed to suspend time, sealing their newfound affection with a tender promise. With the weight of competition lifted, they embarked on a journey together, intertwining their paths in both love and academia. As they walked out of the empty classroom hand in hand, Y/N knew that their story was just beginning, brimming with possibilities and shared dreams. And in that moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of their shared laughter, she realized that sometimes rivalry could blossom into the most unexpected love story of all.
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damned-punk · 3 days
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What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)
Part Two
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment
Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
You glanced at the number for a moment trying to decide if it was worth answering. It was a strange time of night for a spam call and Hip would be more likely to text before calling, either way you had her contact saved so you were confident it wasn’t her. As you pulled into your driveway and started gathering your things to head inside, your phone started buzzing yet again. The same number from before flashed across the screen, this time prompting you to answer.
“Hey, is this (Y/N)?”, the tenor of the voice was jarringly familiar and caught you off guard, it sounded just like him.
“Yeah… Who’s this?”, you asked although you already knew the answer.
“It’s Kidd.”, you heard him inhale, likely taking a drag off a cigarette, “I just wanted to say that I didn’t mean to be an asshole earlier… it was nice meeting you too.”
His words caused your chest to swell and drew the air from your lungs. He was using your own words against you, a way to makeup for his misunderstanding of your initial interaction while also showing that he was attentive to what you’d said to him. He’d laughed when you’d first said it and it made you feel like muttering it in the first place was a mistake, but this changed the way you perceived his response. He’d mentioned that no one had ever been happy to meet him and maybe that was more than just a self-deprecating joke in passing.
“Oh, it’s fine…”, you trailed off, trying hard to find the right words to say, “I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was… Well, you know.”
The fact that he’d taken the time to not only call but also apologize had greatly intensified your interest. Maybe he just wasn’t good at showing his own interest, it’s not like you were particularly seasoned with it either. He must’ve at least been attracted to you beyond his proposition for casual sex, why else would he go out of his way to let you know that he enjoyed meeting you?
“Don’t worry about it.”, he laughed a bit and continued, “I hope Hip will convince you to come to the bar again soon.”
“I don’t think she’ll have to convince me next time.”, you chose your words carefully, not saying too much but reciprocating his invitation, “Goodnight Kidd.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”, you could hear the grin in his voice, he was eager to see you again, “Goodnight (Y/N).”
You took yourself to bed and analyzed the events of the night several times over. The next morning, you sent Hip a text and let her know that you needed to talk. She already knew what you’d say, she was the one who’d given Kidd your number in the first place. She seemed pleasantly surprised that he’d actually followed through with calling you, something that she said was out of the ordinary for him. Rather than prolonging your absence any further, she suggested that the two of you meet at the bar at the same time as the night prior and that’s exactly what you did.
You found yourself putting extra thought into your outfit, styling yourself in a way that made you feel at peak confidence. The drive felt agonizingly slow and terrifyingly fast at the same time. You wanted to be there as soon as possible to have the most time to get to know him better but as you pulled into the parking lot, the thought of going through the motions was anxiety inducing. You noticed that Hip’s car was absent from the lot, your calls immediately being sent to voicemail. You’d arrived on time and while it was totally a possibility that she was only running late, the thought of her not showing up was daunting as she was the only common denominator that connected you to Kidd’s world.
A few minutes of waiting had turned into several, the hours only growing later with each passing second. Your texts weren’t being delivered which indicated that her phone was likely turned off. Had she forgotten about tonight? Did something else come up? Nevertheless, your time spent pondering on where she could be was cut short as you were startled by rapid tapping on the glass of your window. A smile broke out across your face when you saw him, red hair spiked atop his head and a leather jacket clinging to his shoulders as he lent to the height of your car. You rolled down your window to greet him, the smell of his cologne wafting in the air.
“What’re you doing here?”, he asked in a playful tone, his demeanor much more inviting than it’d been the night before, “Couldn’t wait to see me?”
“Something like that…”, you played into his suggestion, “I was supposed to meet Hip again but I don’t think she’s gonna make it.”
“Don’t tell me you need Hip to come inside and have a drink with me.”, he stood up straight and crossed his arms, internally praying that his attempts at flirting were actually resonating this time.
“I don’t know… she might not like me getting too comfortable without her.”, you teased him, your tone indicating that you were only joking.
“I’ll tell you what…”, he started while glancing around at the scenery, “How about we go somewhere else instead? I’ve been here the past few nights and it’s dead in there anyway.”
“Do you have anywhere specific in mind?”, you asked, nervous but excited at the thought of being somewhere alone with him.
“How about the riverfront?”, he prompted and you nodded to confirm his suggestion, “I’ll drive.”
You followed him to his car which very much fit his personality and slid into the passenger seat next to him. The closeness in such a confined space was nauseating, ultimately leaving you hyper aware of your surroundings. You’d struck light conversation with him, complimenting the vehicle and listening to him talk about all the parts he’d modified or crafted himself. You learned that he was a mechanic and had been managing a local shop for a couple of years. You loved watching his face light up as he talked about some of his favorite projects and machines that he’d gotten to work on.
He asked several questions about you and seemed genuinely invested in what you had to say. The two of you lead different lives but seemed to have many similarities, most notably when it came to media interests. As he pulled into the parking area at the river, the water glittered against the moonlight and added the perfect ambiance to your conversation. Kidd seemed to be stuck on your shared interest in music, something that he was clearly passionate about has he pointed out the patches of bands on his jacket. He put on one of his favorite playlists and continued the conversation by asking if you’d ever been in a relationship.
He took in your response and asked about the qualities that you typically look for in a partner. He mentioned that he hadn’t actually been in many real relationships, it seemed that he’d had more fun than anything. It made your heart twinge when he asked what you thought about him. Nearly all of what you knew of him was recently learned and while you didn’t want to come off as overbearing, you could already feel yourself slipping into him. Spending time with Kidd just felt so right, hours had passed yet they felt like minutes.
“I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you.”, you stated honestly, “I’m so glad you called because I’m having such a great time right now… I really like you, Kidd. Thank you for bringing me here.”
His face lit up redder than his hair, his cheeks almost seeming to illuminate from the intensity of your response. His eyes were locked on yours, almost as though he were searching for any hint of doubt in your expression. He couldn’t think of another time in his life when someone talked to him the way that you had. You were so open and readily accepting of what he had to say, it was such a refreshing change of pace to break up the monotony that his life had fallen into.
Following his instincts, he leant closer and placed a hand on your leg. You froze at the contact and prepared yourself for the impending intimacy that was sure to follow. He flickered his gaze from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes again. You traded your own glances between his gaze and his hand, stilling yourself when he began to draw forward. He placed a kiss on your lips and lingered for a moment, drawing back just a few inches to gauge your reaction. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, but he didn’t want to lose the contact if you reciprocated. You leant your forehead against his own, attempting to steady your breath.
“I guess I should get you back, huh?”, he said lowly, the gruffness of his voice awakening a feeling deep within your abdomen.
“Unfortunately…”, you smiled as he pulled back and rubbed his fingers into the top of your thigh.
He’d kept his hand rested in its position over your leg the whole time, a comfortable silence taking hold as the two of you processed the very meaningful past several hours. As he pulled up next to your own car, you noticed that a group was standing outside the doors of the bar. You recognized Mosh by his bright pink hair and posed next to him was Hip, cigarette in hand and as lively as ever. She still hadn’t answered any of your calls or texts, something that Kidd could tell had bothered you by the change in your demeanor.
“Looks like she found her way here after all.”, he attempted to cut the tension, not exactly sure what you were thinking or feeling.
“Yeah… Should I go over and say hi? I hope she’s not upset with me.”, you asked, really wanting some advice on how to handle the awkward situation.
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”, he dismissed your concerns and got out of the car, meeting you at your side as you stood on the pavement.
Mosh called out to Kidd as you made your way over to your own vehicle, a feeble attempt to end what had proved to be another long night. It had a much better outcome than the previous evening but something about Hip’s silence was beginning to bloom in your thoughts. Something was off, even if you couldn’t place exactly what it was. Abrupt silence paused the eruption of chaotic chatter when you stepped into view, a glaringly obvious shift in attitude as they realized you’d been with Kidd the entire time. You waved at everyone, told Kidd goodnight, and headed home for some much needed decompression.
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
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miloformula123fan · 2 days
Note
Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife teacher!reader? She's stressed about work and he just shuts her up with kisses and gets caught by the team. And they teased the couple endlessly. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks!! :))
Haha im gonna be honest i see bono as such a sap for his partner, and so that’s how i will always write him
(unless y’all want a part 2 of the love language fic)
sorry i feel like it's short
Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.
also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better
and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)
peter bonnington x wife!teacher!reader
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“I sometimes feel like none of them care. I mean actually I know none of them care, one of the boys, Brayden, straight up asked me ‘miss why does the past matter? Surely the future matters more’ and while I was explaining that we have to study the past to make sure we don’t repeat the future, he was trying to flirt with the girl next to him.” Y/N sighed, Bono and her had found a small secluded area before the race began. But Y/N was really stressed out from work and so Bono had offered to let her vent about it.
“Aww, baby, I’m sorry…” Bono snuggled closer to his partner, wanting them to feel as loved as he could.
“If you ever get a job application from a Brayden Jackson that went to the school I’m teaching, immediately deny him please. It’s just annoying that very few students care, except for the A level students, and the school doesn’t care about me, particularly if we’re taking my recent working hours into account.” Y/N laughed, trying really hard to not let her tears spill.
“I can provide for you darling…you can quit your job, travel the world with me… I know that that’s not what you want to do. I know you love teaching for those few kids who do actually like history, but I hate seeing you so burnt out.” Bono comforted her, wiping away the stray tears that had fallen past her eyes onto her cheeks.
“But it is worth it for those few kids who come through the ranks, who do care. It’s worth 10 of the asshole kids for one of the kids who cares…but the hours are starting to get to me, I’m thinking about trying to find a better job, one that actually cares about me, and not just the kids, but then, I have to quit my job, and then I’ll be unemployed for a bit, until I find another job, and trying to find one of those jobs is hard to find and highly competitive…” Y/N looked even more stressed than she had when she had begun venting and her husband hated seeing her like this.
Bono couldn’t listen to her stress and just planted a kiss on her lips. And then when she looked slightly surprised, he did it again, littering kisses all over her face and lips. She started looking slightly surprised but ended up giggling by the time that Bono stopped his kissing assault for some air.
“What was that for?”
“Just because I love you.”
Bono resumed his kissing of his wife, enjoying her little giggles and smiles. Until he realised that not all the giggles were coming from the woman next to him.
He lifted his head and met eyes with James V, James A, Toto and Lewis all standing over the couple, all trying to hold their laughter in.
“Uhhh, hi?”
“Hi!”
“Hey”
“Hello”
“Morning Bono.” They all responded.
“Uhhh, I kind of thought this was a private corner, what are you all doing here?” Y/N had hid her face in Bono’s shoulder and was giggling at the situation.
“You’re late for pre pre-race briefing so we thought we’d come looking for you.”
“And-”
“And we can clearly tell that you’re busy but we would like to see you in the pre race briefing as soon as you’re um finished.” - Toto started ushering the other guys away
“Yeah, will do, see you guys soon. Now where were we?” Bono asked mischievously as he turned back to his partner, not even looking to see if the others had left fully.
---
“Hey Bono, is the wife coming down this weekend?”
“Uhh, yeah, yeah she is. Why?”
“Oh we made a little spot for you 2 to ‘canoodle’ and you won’t be disturbed.” James A’s grin was way too big for this to be an innocent kind thing, so bono slipped off the chair and followed him down the hall towards the supply closet.
Bono’s face blushed as he saw the little sign reading ‘Y/N and Bono’s smooching corner’ with a photo from their wedding also pasted on the piece of paper.
“Really?”
“Yeah man, your wife is great, but like we really don’t want to catch you snogging again, okay?”
“Okay” Bono replied in a weak voice, pulling out his phone to take a photo to send to Y/N, knowing she could have a good laugh about it.
---
taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206
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acatnamedkitten · 2 days
Text
Too Many Beds-RadioHusk
Drabble(700w)-Reverse trope writing prompts
They took shelter in a mattress store. This year's extermination had come earlier in the day than normal and caught the pair out and about.
Because, of course, Alastor had waited until the last fucking second to decide he needed a new cable for his transmitting board.
"Of course, it can't wait, Husker. What if the shop is destroyed? What if the owners are killed? What if those lousy picture boxes start reporting the damages before I do?"
And Satan forbid he go by himself.
Husk sighed and flopped down on a mattress. The owners must have gone out of town for the extermination, but at least they'd boarded up the shop beforehand.
With the lights off and the incredibly soft bed, Husk figured it was as good a time as any to take a nap. It wasn't like Alastor could get them out of there.
Using his magic now would only alert the Angels to their presence. So, Alastor laid down a few mattresses away, meditating to lower his magical expenditure.
🎙️🪽🦌🐈‍⬛🦌🐈‍⬛🦌🐈‍⬛🪽🎙️
At some point, there was an almighty crash just outside the shop. Husk startled awake, just barely managing to stifle his yowl of alarm.
With his heart trying to beat out of his chest, Husk sat frozen, waiting for something else to happen. But nothing ever did. There wasn't even the sound of fighting out on the street.
Sighing, Husk got up in search of a bathroom. By the time he'd stumbled back to the sales floor, he was already half asleep again. Eyes closed, he shuffled over to where he'd been laying. Not really caring if it was the same bed or not, Husk flopped down and promptly fell back asleep.
🎙️🪽🦌🐈‍⬛🦌🐈‍⬛🦌🐈‍⬛🪽🎙️
"Husker"
"~Husker~"
Husk grumbled. Laying on his stomach, wings spread, he wrapped his arms further underneath his pillow and nuzzled into it. He was too cozy for whatever it was Alastor wanted.
"Husker, wake ~uuup~"
Husk flexed and shifted, gripping his pillow tighter, lest Alastor pull it away like he so often did. "No."
Even with his face all but hidden, Alastor still managed to boop his nose. "Yes!"
"Don't wanna," He mumbled, turning his face the other way.
His bed was so soft, and his wings felt so nice all spread out, and he was all warm and cozy, and his pillow smelled so good. It was like coffee and rain and old pennies and...
Husk froze.
Alastor.
His pillow smelled like Alastor.
Alastor was laying on the bed with him, one leg on either side of Husk's torso.
He had his head on Alastor's stomach; his arms were around Alastor's waist.
He was using Alastor as a pillow.
HOW???
He'd been a few mattresses away when... he'd...
Oh shit.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
Suddenly, Alastor's hands found his ears. Husk, taunt as a bow string and ready to fly, flinched at the initial contact.
But Alastor didn't pull his ears. Or flick them. Or pinch them. Or any of the other things he usually did to piss Husk off.
No. This time... This time his clawed fingertips were gentle. They scratched around the base of his ears, trailing back and forth.
"Now, now. No need to get all riled up. You were just having a dream is all, and I know how much you hate those."
Alastor trailed scritches down between Husk's eyes, then up and over to the base of his skull. Despite how tense he was, Husk couldn't help but melt under the gentle ministrations.
Before he could think about it, Husk found himself letting out a content sigh and leaning into Alastor's touch.
Objectively, Husk knew that Alastor was capable of softness and affection. He saw the demon interact with Rosie and Niffty, after all. But never before had Husk been on the receiving end of Alastor's gentler touches.
"That's it. Just relax."
With the sense of imminent danger gone, Husk's fatigue came back in full force.
Fuck it. He thought. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts, right? At least he isn't biting my head off for laying on him.
If Alastor randomly waking him up—claiming Husk was dreaming—was payback for falling asleep on the guy, Husk could live with that. He did make a really good pillow, after all.
But Husk didn't dream. He hadn't dreamed since before the war; he only ever had—
...Had...
...Had Alastor woken him up from a nightmare?
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boysbellyrubs · 2 days
Text
'Fine This Morning'
Another detective fic is here!! This time I was lightly inspired by a prompt of a character feeling fine in the morning and suddenly coming down with something. it's semi-long, so I hope you enjoy :))
--
Jack laid his jacket over his chair, placed his coffee on the desk and sat across from Harry. 
“Morning.” It was barely morning anymore, but, force of habit. 
Harry looked up from his desk, “Good morning. Where have you been?” He sat back from his work, folding his arms to give Jack a funny look. 
“The morgue,” He pulled out a pen, clicking the end a few times before writing a quick reminder to write up the findings from said morgue trip. Jack took a sip of coffee, “What’s that look for?” 
“Nothing, nothing. Thought you’d be somewhere more interesting.” Harry slumped back into his seat. Jack could see he was just pretending to write, his pen hovering just above the paper. Jack chuckled, 
“Looking for gossip?” He asked. Harry’s cheeks reddened at being caught. He immediately got back into his work, hunching over to block his face. Jack really laughed now, “Don’t go all shy on me.” He joked, now leaning forward to get his own work done. 
While they worked, all types of people filed into the department. Jack couldn’t help but overhear a family that had lost their young boy over the weekend, desperately asking for some help. He looked up, noticing the mother crying and the father absolutely ripping into one of the younger detectives. It was causing a bit of a ruckus. He looked over to Harry, giving him a nod. 
Walking over to the couple, the mother noticed their approach. She latched onto Jack, “Please, sir, can you help us?” She shook him about, surprisingly strong. It left him feeling a little unbalanced. She cried out again. Jack put his hands on her shoulders, gently pulling her off him. 
“Ma’am, I’m sorry but you need to calm down. You too, sir.” The father turned to face him, anger painted across his features. He looked down at Harry then to Jack, 
“You’re detectives aren’t you? Can’t you help us?” He jabbed a finger at Harry’s chest. Jack stepped in front to avoid further confrontation. The couple noticed his stern expression and seemed to back off, remembering just who they were talking to. 
Jack took a step back, “Now, if we can all calm down-” 
“Calm down?!” The father was riled again, “Just who do you think you are? We lost our son and no one is helping us.” He took a step at Jack. Suddenly, Jack felt a bit claustrophobic. He had no idea what this man could do, and with his grief and anger, he figured it wouldn’t be pleasant. 
“Why do you need detectives?” Harry asked. 
A moment of indecision came across the man’s face. His eyes bore into Jack’s and moved to Harry, seemingly debating whether or not to back down. Jack tried to keep his back straight and his feet planted. The man stepped back and Jack felt a weight come off his chest. A shallow breath fell from his mouth. The father held onto his wife, giving their attention to Harry. 
“We think it was murder. He always hung around a bad crowd, we think one of them killed him.” Names were exchanged, and Harry took them over to his desk. Jack watched as they left, trying to calm his racing heart. He couldn’t understand why that moment had caused such panic in him. His hands were clammy and his head was unsteady. 
Jack trudged back to his desk. Falling into his chair, he pushed his hair back and shut his eyes. He could vaguely make out the conversation across from him, but he didn’t really care. The couple were probably just paranoid. It wasn’t a very nice thing to think, but with how he was feeling, he didn’t want to do nice. He planted his elbow on the desk, looking down at the report he was nearly finished with before the interruption. With a final few sentences, he signed off on it and filed it away with the rest of the case reports. 
Without a word, he waved the file to Lawrence and left to put it in storage. The case was completely solved, with a simple explanation of drug overdose on the victim. He was walking back to his desk when a wave of vertigo hit him. Without intending to, he caught himself heavily with the wall. His eyes were clamped shut. Jack tried to breathe. 
“Hey, Woods. Too hard on the booze last night?” Detective Watson strolled past, her own case file in hand. She nudged him in the arm. 
Jack looked at her. She didn’t even seem to notice his distress, “Yeah, you could say that.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply and kept walking. Every step he took shook up his brain. Jack felt increasingly sick the closer he got to his desk. The couple were still there, but looked to be successfully calmed. Harry gave him a quick glance before he finished up his conversation with the couple. They thanked him profusely, but as they were leaving, gave Jack a glare. He didn’t care. He wasn’t here to please everyone. 
“I told them I’d look at the file but I don’t think I’m going to find anything. Sounds like the kid was just unlucky,” Harry stuck a note on his computer screen, probably their phone number, and looked back at Jack. 
Harry had just opened his mouth to say something more when the Chief came over to their desk. He had a thundercloud above his head. 
“You two, we got an urgent case downtown. Just got the call, it’s fresh. You got it?” With the Chief glaring at them, Jack and Harry collected their things and set off. They took Jack’s car and got to the scene around ten minutes later. They were met with the usual hubbub as they stepped out of the car. Jack swore he felt his feet skid on the concrete, but they were perfectly stationary. He ignored it, flashing his badge to the police officers in front of the yellow tape. The body was lying face up in the middle of the footpath, eyes wide. There was an obvious stab wound in his stomach. 
Harry crouched down, “Well, at least we know how they died.” He did a quick survey of the area around the body, but found no weapon. 
Jack stood back, the sight getting to him. He stepped around the body and looked into the bushes and rubbish bins. No weapon there either. He tried to keep his head and body moving together to avoid any more vertigo, which probably made him look like a robot. With Harry covering the immediate area, Jack set off to go take a look around some of the alleys. 
Out of sight from everyone, he allowed himself a few moments to breathe. Everything was just getting worse as time passed. His hands were perpetually sweating, his head was pounding and every little movement made the world violently tilt, and to make everything just a little worse, he was beginning to feel nauseated. He was feeling fine that morning. No headache, no dizziness, no nothing. After the incident with that couple, everything just went downhill. 
He doubted that they had passed something onto him. No sickness would ever work that quickly. Jack found himself lost in thought when a scrape of a boot caught his attention. Suddenly, his brain was on overdrive and he carefully slid his gun out of its holster, bringing it up in front of him. He took quiet steps, calculating where the noise had come from. The obvious guess was from behind the big dumpster so he rounded his gun past there first. No one. 
He kept moving further down the alley when the noise happened again. But from right behind him. Jack spun, assaulted by vertigo, but he kept his cool. In front of him was a young man, around mid-20s with a knife gripped tightly in his left hand.  
“Drop the knife.” Jack said plainly. No use in yelling just yet. 
The man’s body stuttered a bit. Like he was fighting with some invisible force that told him to put the knife down. He readjusted his grip on the weapon, “And what if I don’t?” He taunted, taking a step towards Jack. 
“I’ll shoot you down. Then you’d go straight into a jail cell. You wouldn’t want that,” Jack tried to keep his words strong. He still hadn’t recovered from the spin earlier. He desperately tried to keep his arms out and stable, “Put it down.” He emphasised. 
There was about five seconds of nothing, and then the man lunged forward with the knife. He was sloppy and Jack managed to dodge him. He went flying past him, so Jack turned around and shot him twice in the leg, enough to make him drop and cry out. He ran over to him, holding the gun now at his head, “What did I say? Now sit still while the others come.” 
Jack stood back, knowing the perp wouldn’t get anywhere. He stumbled back into the dumpster, his back roughly smacking into the cold metal. He shivered. Now with the adrenaline slowly leaving his body, he felt every ounce of illness and symptom like never before. He put his hand to his head, stifling back a groan as that little movement caused a fresh wave of nausea to splash against his insides. 
He heard rather than saw other police officers entering the alley, all with their own guns raised.
“Over here,” Jack mumbled, vaguely pointing to the man. He heard the thump of boots run past him and then the jingle of handcuffs. 
Jack had to move. The smell of rubbish wafting up from the bin was making everything worse. With all the strength he had left, he exited the alley, squinting at the burn of the setting sun. Thank god his day was nearly over, he desperately needed to puke and preferably in his own home. The suspect was kicking and screaming as he got walked out to the ambulance, blood steadily dripping down from his right leg. He gave Jack a beady eyed glare, spitting at his feet. Jack was used to it. 
Detective Lawrence came up behind him, patting him on the shoulder. It caused Jack’s centre of gravity to shift, “Good one, Woods. How’d ya know he was back there?” 
“Lucky guess.” He muttered. Jack politely shook off Harry’s hand, stumbling his way over to the car. He would deal with the rest of this bullshit tomorrow. He was about five seconds away from either passing out or vomiting. 
Thankfully, he was somehow able to hold it all down for him to get back to the station, gather his things, say goodbye to Harry and drive home. Now that he was home though, the feeling that he felt after shooting the man in the alley was back but increased by tenfold. Every little movement caused a sickly burp to shoot up his throat, and his head to quite literally spin. He hobbled over to his bathroom, hand running along the wall, and practically fell in front of his toilet. 
He spat thick saliva, “Ohh, god.” He moaned out. This was the worst thing he had ever felt in a while. His belly angrily whined at him, forcing a strained hiccup and a burp to come tumbling out of his mouth. He just needed to puke, then he would be fine. Everything was curdled in his stomach. Jack spit again, the saliva dangling off his lips. 
He breathed deep through his nose, burps filtering up through his throat. Before he could even get a chance to realise what was happening, a gag tore its way up his throat and out came a thick wave of vomit. He retched again, head spinning. He very quickly realised he was going to fall over and plonked his hands heavily onto the tile. With his body stable, his belly had free rein to do whatever it needed and his cheeks puffed up to spew out another mouthful of vomit. 
Jack coughed on that one, groaning as he was given absolutely no time to breathe as another gag brought another wave. His stomach contracted and heaved. 
“Fuck m’ life,” He groaned, “Jesus.” His words slurred together much like the mess in his belly. Jack felt like actual garbage. He burped again and it stung his throat. However, he felt like he wasn’t about to puke again, so he gathered all of his strength and sat back from the toilet. All he wanted was his bed and sleep, just to forget about the agony of the day. His stomach was aching, and his head was reeling, nothing seemed to want to stay still when he looked at it. He moaned again, wondering how the hell he was going to actually get into bed. 
With a deep breath, he pushed himself off the floor and clung tightly onto the bathroom sink. He stared at his reflection, disgusted by the pale cheeks and dark circles. Jack splashed some water onto his face, swishing some around his mouth for good measure, and made the journey to his room. Finally getting into bed felt heavenly. He simply laid on his side, breathing softly and curling around a pillow. 
The day played through his mind like a DVD. The couple, the storage room, the crime scene, the man with the knife. And the fact that he had somehow gotten sick between it all. His morning was normal, his routine had no deviations. What kind of bug from Hell had he caught? It made his head spin thinking about it. Jack squeezed his eyes shut, whining a bit. He felt his body relax deeper and sleep slowly sunk her claws into him. His phone was on his bedside table, ready to call in sick tomorrow. 
---
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yanderes-galore · 3 days
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Here's the second version of the Aegon prompts since I had two different ideas. This one is a more dominant Aegon and more yandere. Even in this one I didn't get the vibe I wanted to with these prompts... but oh well I guess.
Version A
Yandere Aegon II Targaryen Prompts 9, 15, 20 (Version B)
"I will never let you leave me."
"Submit yourself wholly and only to me."
"You are the reason I live."
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Dominant Aegon, Politics, Desperate Aegon, Forced kissing, Slight intimacy, Slight violence but he only pushes you a bit, Angst, Forced relationship.
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"What do you think you're doing?" The king asks as you freeze in place. You were the soon-to-be spouse of King Aegon II, one many pitied as the king often went and slept with other people. However... you didn't mind that.
Mostly because you didn't love him.
No, you were someone who was loyal to The Blacks. While you originally provided emotional aid to the king when he was a prince, you always were a supporter of Queen Rhaenyra. Such thoughts were actually what drove you to try and run...
Only for Aegon to catch you in the act of packing.
"I was looking for something, my king... I just wanted to go outside-" Aegon cuts you off, settling himself behind you as he holds your waist and puts his head in your neck.
"Do not lie to me." The king seethes, glaring at you with a dark gaze. "You're trying to leave me, aren't you?"
You see his gaze flash to a sad one when you don't respond. However... soon after his gaze flashes to anger and the king grabs your hand. You yelp as he pulls you close to him, sitting you on the bed of his chambers.
"I will never let you leave me." The king growls, a dark promise as he stands in front of you. He cups your face, eyes softening for just a moment before he leans closer. "You're mine to conquer... Mine to love... You are the reason I live."
Aegon kisses you, you can feel the hunger in his lips before he pulls away. He's scanning your gaze, looking for any sign of disobedience. He seems to see straight through you... even he wasn't blind to your actual allegiance.
"Don't tell me you'd really abandon me..." Aegon whispers, hurt in his eyes. When you still don't answer him, you swear he's going to cry. "You know I can't live without you, don't you?"
The silence seems to be his breaking point as Aegon snaps at your lack of truthful response.
"You're such a traitor..." Aegon growls. You shake against him and he laughs. It seems he'd have to teach you where your allegiance should lie. "S-Surely you want to make it up to me, don't you, love?"
You feel yourself forced onto the floor. Your knees and hands meet with cold stone as Aegon pulls your head up by your chin. His grin and gaze are dark... that of a determined yet desperate ruler of the Iron Throne.
He sees you shake and shiver, eyes full of fear. The sight makes Aegon hesitate but he continues. After all... you're the one who broke his heart. You're the one who needs to pay.
"I want you to promise me this..." Aegon growls, but you can hear the emotion in his tone. He's scared to lose you... he wants proof you won't... and if you want another chance at escape then you should listen.
"Promise you what?" You ask in a soft tone, flinching when Aegon comes closer. His grip around your chin is still tight... a silent warning.
"Promise to submit yourself wholly and only to me." Aegon answers, his voice wavering for a moment. "Promise me you'll be mine, that you won't run off to my damned half-sister."
You remain silent, expecting him to snap in anger. However... you're met with the king breaking his composure and pulling you into his chest. His grip is tight and his face is buried into your chest... you then hear sobbing.
"Promise me!" The king yells as though he's in pain. "Promise me you won't leave me! As your king I demand it!"
The sound nearly makes you feel bad. The king really held onto you like you were his lifeline. You don't think you've seen Aegon like this in a long time....
Regardless of if you really cared for him the same or not... you hug the king back.
"Promise...." You whisper, causing Aegon to look up.
"Do you mean it? Do you swear by it?" Aegon hiccups, looking at you with watery eyes. He looked like a broken boy more than a ruthless king.
"I swear." You're lying through your teeth, but it's enough to calm the king. He doesn't move though... merely holding you closer as he sniffles. You feel tears collecting in your own eyes... but for different reasons.
"Good..." The king whispers, kissing your chest softly before tightening his grip.
"I'd never let you go even if it meant I had to kill that Queen myself."
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killjoy-prince · 2 years
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Two people are stuck in a timeloop. The way they handle being in the loop is opposite to each other. One person plays along like everything is fine. The other is violently against it, denying everything. They think the other is responsible for putting them in the loop.
#prince's talk tag#whenever im doing a task at work where i can kinda shut my brain off my head sometimes comes up with prompts i wanna see#this one is my most recent one#has this been done somewhere? i feel like it was#its not original but i love me some timeloops no matter how much its been done#adding more to it is like the person going along with it is losing their mind as much as the person violently against it#but keeps it together bc they think the other is the one causing it and doesn't want them thinking they're winning#on one hand i saw it as the one violently against it being the main focus with them trying various ways to get out of it but to no avail#and then at one point switching the pov to the one going along with it and seeing they are also stuck and putting up a good facade#on the other hand i thought the one going along with it being the focus#and they do something different each day making you think it's a different day each time#but youll see the date hasnt changed and they're just trying different things hoping this activity will get them out#but once you get to see what they're really thinking you can see them losing their mind#and the one going along with it thinks the one against it is responsible and vise versa bc they noticed they're doing different things#even though the day is the same and everyone else is doing what they were doing on repeat#the one violently against it tries to confront them but the one going along with it pretends not to know what they mean#while the person going along with it thinks the other person is playing mind games with them#idk im rambling at this point#if you read this far thank for sticking til the end
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markster666 · 3 months
Note
Alas I have fallen for the radio demon! He is perfection and so is your writing! I’m sure you’ve got a lot of requests but I was hoping you could do an Alastor X fem! reader where she likes pulling/gripping his hair while he *ahem* breeds her? Her kink is bearing his demon spawns! = u =
Mmmm gotta love the Radio Demon! Saw this request at work and was like "I'm immediately writing this when I get home" sooo here we are! Thank you so much for your request and hope this is what you were looking for. Lots of love.
ALASTOR THE RADIO DEMON X READER (SMUT/18+) - Breeding B*tch
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Shameless Smut, 18+, Breeding, Hair pulling, Porn without much Plot, Pet kink, Pet play, Impregnation kink, etc.
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 878
A/N: Thank you so much to @lingeringherealways for taking time out of your day to put in this request and trust me with it! I absolutely adored this prompt the second I read it and had to write it out before I head to bed. Unedited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. Requests are open.
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The entire Hazbin crew (except for you and Alastor) decided to go on an outing. Charlie wanted to try and recruit sinners on the streets and offer them refuge in return for possible redemption. She invited you and Alastor to come along, albeit last minute, you both declined respectfully as somebody had to keep watch over the hotel while they were away. Alastor could easily do it by himself, sure, but you were burdened with the thought of sleep. As soon as they left, you slumped onto the lobby couch and shut your eyes.
Alastor waltzed into the room, his microphone staff hitting the ground with a thud every step he took. You opened one of your eyes to get a look at him, only to see he made his way to the edge of the couch, staring right at you with the same, expressionless wide-grinned look he masked all the time.
"Everything alright, Alastor?"
"Mmm, may I speak to you my Dear?"
You groaned and sat up lazily, rubbing your eyes.
"It's kind of a bad time, I'm half asleep."
His ears furrowed back and he sat at the edge of the couch, making sure to keep a good few feet of distance between you two. You could feel his demeanor shift promptly as he started speaking,
"Ah, yes, well, I'll make it quick. You see, I've been having this insatiable urge to... um... how do I speak of this-"
You raised your eyebrow as you waited for him to continue.
He sighed.
"I need to breed."
Your eyes widen in shock. Of course, you knew he was an animal and it would make sense as to WHY he had these desires but...
"And... why are you telling me this?"
He laughed.
"Hah hah hah! Because I want to breed YOU my Dear."
You stare at him open mouthed, unable to process what he just said. You have had fantasies about him for awhile, sure, but never in a million years did you ever expect it to finally be happening.
"O-Okay Alastor, but only this ONE time-"
He cut you off as soon as you gave him full permission to do what he wanted. He set his microphone down and pounced on you, his tall figure covering your entire body.
"Mmm, thank you my Dear, but I don't think one time is going to be enough for that pretty little body of yours."
You were about to say something before he crashed his lips down onto yours, forcing your mouth open with his tongue and intertwining it with yours. You moaned into his mouth as he tore open your clothes in a couple fluid motions. He stopped kissing you as he ran a finger in between your folds.
"My my! Look how wet you are! Oh how I've been CRAVING to ravish you. I hope you don't expect me to take my time."
He quickly undid his pants zipper before instantly slipping his length inside of you, his ears pinned to the sides of his head trying to hold back grunts of ectasy. You were whining, going non-verbal from how full you felt. Every time he thrusted, it felt like you hit a new stage of bliss, and suddenly you didn't care about redemption into Heaven.
You were already in it.
He gripped your hair and held you close to his body, his face burrowed in your neck and shoulder crease as he aggressively, yet sloppily thrusted into you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist so he could thrust as deep as he could.
He finally let his pleasure take control and started grunting animalistically. He was nipping at your collarbone and squeezing you into him as hard as he could, sweat being combined between your two intertwined bodies as the heat filled the space.
"You feel so gooood, you truly are a BITCH in heat. Let me hear more of those pretty little sounds of yours, Love."
He whispered into your ear before kissing your jawline quickly, smiling against your neck. Your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure and you could not contain your mews.
Your hands moved up to his hair, gripping it very aggressively out of pure passion and need.
"P-Please, Alastor, breed me. Impregnate me. I want you to mark my womb with your seed. Please-"
You senselessly babbled into thin air, gripping his hair harder and tightening your legs around his waist.
"Your begging is music to my ears! As you wish, Dear, stay still for me."
His thrusts quickened in pace before becoming sporadic. He finally unleashed all of his seed into you, making sure his cock was as deep inside of you as it could go. You were a panting mess, slowly loosening your grip on his hair, and he was making a bunch of radio static, also trying to catch his breath.
After a bit, he pulled out slowly and watched as his cum dripped out of you. His smile widened,
"Make sure you lay like that for awhile, Love, to make sure it all stays in."
You didn't ever want to move again. Everything was just bliss in that moment.
"Oh, and by the way my Dear, this will not be a one time thing. Expect it frequently!"
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.
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lovebugism · 2 months
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hello sweetheart, i read your prompt list and saw this one "hug?” “clingy, much?……” but hugs them anyway and my heart melted, i don't know if you already did this, but can we have something like that with our sweet but grumpy eddie? 🤍
ty for requesting! — eddie doesn't know why you're avoiding him (fluff, ditzy!reader, 0.9k)
Eddie lost sight of you ten minutes ago. 
You were squished between Robin and Steve on the loveseat last he saw you, giggling into your solo cup while they belted Total Eclipse of the Heart to you — at you — over the music and in their best Muppet impressions. 
He only remembers it so vividly ‘cause he was jealous. Not jealous because you were subjected to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum’s drunken antics, of course, but jealous because you were with them. And so, so far away. 
Now you’re gone, and he misses you like a stray dog — aggressive and hungry and hurt. He walks up to Steve in the kitchen just the same. Hair wild. Button eyes glittering. Slightly reluctant. 
“Where’d she go?!” he shouts over the music, half-muffled into his drink. He uses the plastic cup like a shield ‘cause he doesn’t want people to know he’s missing you. The metalhead freak from the wrong side of town isn’t supposed to need the ball of sunshine from the suburbs. 
But alas.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Steve slurs, half-distracted as he pours himself a drink. He doesn’t need Eddie to tell him who she is. There’s only one person in the whole world he’d go looking for. “She went outside with Robin, I think—”
Eddie spins on the worn heel of his sneaker before the words can properly leave his mouth. He ducks through the bustling, drunken crowd and finds you sitting lonesome on the porch outside. Prettier than the full moon and all the stars in the velvet black sky combined. 
He walks to stand beside you, shoes thunking heavy on the wooden deck. You tilt your chin to smile brightly up at him while he slips a cig into his mouth. He cups the stick as he lights it. Pretends that’s what he came out here for. Not to see you, of course. 
Definitely not.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he mumbles beneath the cigarette in his mouth.
“Robin just left,” you answer plainly, half-shy.
“Why didn’t you come find me?” he asks with an air of nonchalance, still trying to play it cool. ‘Cause there’s nothing less metal than yearning.
You shrug. “‘Cause you were busy?”
It’s easier than telling him that you thought he wanted the space. Or that you actually spent the whole night aching to hang on his side — too scared of embarrassing him in front of all his friends to act on it. 
You know who you are just like you know who he is. Bubblegum pink doesn’t always go well with black. It gets in your hair. Makes everything go all sticky. It’s an acquired taste you know Eddie’s still getting used to — too much of it, and his stomach will start to hurt. So you figure it’s best to keep your distance.
You just didn’t think he was as grieved by it all as you were.
Eddie scoffs. I’m never too busy for you, he wants to say. He might’ve if he wasn’t such a coward. Instead, he blows smoke from his lungs and jokes, “I wouldn’t call keeping Argyle from crowd-surfing in the living room busy, sweetheart.”
A laugh tumbles from his plush lips. The golden sound falls over your skin like stars. You smile absentmindedly back at him as you rise from the creaking rocking chair. You plant your feet ahead of his and smooth your palms beneath his leather jacket, over his warm sides.
Eddie meets your twinkling eyes with narrowed chocolate ones. “What?”
“Hug?” you ask in a mousy voice.
The boy laughs like he’s too cool for affection, though he’d be lying if he said your offer doesn’t have his chest sparkling something fierce. He flicks the cig to the ground — sheepish gaze going with it — before snuffing it out beneath his sneaker.
“Clingy much?” he scoffs.
You nod with a proud smile. 
Eddie’s chest swirls with an unfamiliar feeling. You’re strangely brave about all this — affection and love and all things sweet enough to make him gag. 
It makes him feel like he can feel brave, too.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you with all the intensity of someone wanting to swallow you whole. You hug him back just the same. “I missed you,” you murmur with your cheek squished against his chest.
“Then what’re you avoidin’ me for, huh?” he teases, chin bobbing against your head.
You pull slightly back to squint at him. “I’m not avoiding you.”
“You’ve been hangin’ out with Steve and Robin the whole night,” he grieves, hiding his sincerity behind boyish theatrics. With a feigned pout that feels totally real, he says, “And you didn’t even sit next to me when we played Never Have I Ever.”
“I thought you wanted the space,” you confess in a hushed voice.
His face screws up like he’s tasted something sour. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know…” you shrug. “You always talk about how much you like being alone and stuff, so—”
“Well, yeah! I like my space— just not from you!”
It’s likely the least metal thing he’s ever said.
“Oh,” you hum, mouth contorting into a sheepish beam. “Well… Sorry.”
“Yeah. You should be,” he scoffs, mostly joking. He pouts softly and pulls you back into him again, nosing at your hair until his chapped lips brush your temple. “Just don’t let it happen again, alright?”
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bunnycvnts · 1 month
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new bf!rafe getting babied while he’s sick & falling deeper in love
*+:。.。  。.。:+*
his room was dark despite being midday, thanks to the blackout curtains shielding an array of windows lining his bedroom walls. you tiptoed carefully into the room, easing the door shut gently with your foot, your hands occupied by the tray of goodies for your sick boyfriend. on the tray was a bowl of soup, tissues, two cool washcloths, and a freshly refilled water bottle.
earlier that day, it didn’t take long for you to realize rafe had come down with something. he had been moodier than normal, sneezing and coughing unnecessarily loud, and his nose had been rubbed raw from toilet paper. you ushered him quickly into his room, telling him to nap while you ran out to grab a few things. the trip took longer than you’d thought, and by the time you arrived back to tannyhill, the boy was out cold.
rafe felt the bed dip with weight, and a groan left his lips. his eyes fluttered open and closed repeatedly as you took his temperature. “‘m fine, babe. seriously. jus’ have a cold or something.” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, the thermometer showing a whopping 101.5 temperature, indicating a fever.
“mhm, i know. just humor me. will make me feel better knowing you’re getting some rest.” you knew how he was. he wouldn’t do anything for himself, but if it meant doing it for you…well, he could manage that. anything to please his girl. rafe nodded his head slightly, prompting you to carry on with your nurse facade.
offering the warm soup, he was quick to deny it, claiming his stomach was turning, and he definitely didn’t have any sort of appetite, so you left it on the tray resting on his desk. a moan of relief followed the cold cloth resting against his forehead and sliding down his skin.
“feels nice,” he grumbled out. your lips formed into a pout, as if you were looking at a sad puppy. he was just so cute, you couldn’t help but lean forward to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “i know, baby.”
rafes mouth upturned at the petname, always a sucker for verbal affection. his brain felt like mush, and he wasn’t entirely sure that you weren’t some figment of his imagination. a moment of weakness, leading him to conjure up someone who knew how to relieve some of the pain he was feeling and make his heart melt at the same time.
you helped him sit up, slipping some medicine into his mouth, followed by water to help him swallow it down. his chest was bare, a light sheen of sweat sweeping across his skin. you were quick to grab the second cloth and gently run it down his chest, cleaning him off and easing the heat he felt. goosebumps rose on his skin at the cold cloth, despite his moans of relief.
his eyes had remained mostly closed, peaking at you sometimes when you’d stop touching him, wondering where you’d gone, but each time he was met with a sweet kiss to his cheek and another swipe of the cold cloth among various areas of his skin. his heart felt heavy with love as you cared for him, gazing at you each time you turned away to grab different items for him. you were like an angel, swooping down and holding his heart in your hands, bringing it back to health.
when the cloth ran warm from his heat, you placed it back on the tray, so you could use it again later after running it under some water. your hand met his forehead, trying to gauge his temperature, even though you already knew what it was.
“my poor baby, bet you feel so icky right now.” you pouted down at him, watching as his cheeks flushed deeper.
“stop it. i’m fine.” his words did nothing to stop the smile forming on his lips. he was a sucker for your sweet words. he forced his eyes open to look at you, raising his arms out to gesture you in.
“baby, you have a fever. i know you’re too warm; cuddling won’t help.” despite your response to his gesture, it didn’t take much to convince you, which you proved as you lay next to him when he grumbled at you. rafe rested his head on your skin, feeling the coolness of it against his cheek. “just for a sec, promise. jus’ a second.”
you laid there for the rest of the night, as he had quickly fallen back asleep on you. your soft skin and scent, which he loved so much, provided more comfort than a cool washcloth or some warm soup ever could.
taglist: @sunkissedrafe
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satoruhour · 9 months
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a/n:a repost from my old blog ♡ / contains one sex joke / 0.9k
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“satoru, come to bed, it’s late,” yawning, you pat the space beside you. he’s doing his nightly skincare routine, patting his face gently with the retinol serum he just bought.
“ya sure you don’t want to try it out?” gojo offers out the dropper, a hairband cutely pushed up to prevent his bangs from interfering.
“i don’t like slimey stuff on my face.” and you cringe, realising your mistake too late.
“and yet you give me your face to cu—”
“shut the fuck up,” you severely miss him, pillow landing on the floor beside him. he didn’t even bother to activate his technique, laughing out loud at your failed attempt.
gojo never did switch it on when he was with you. not when he decided that he’d give his all to you, not even he asked you to move in with him on a desperate full of nightmares, not when you first said i love you.
gojo satoru was soft around you, a sight that many would like to see yet only disclosing it to you. the you who got him falling when you’d hang out with his students, giving as much pointers as you could on cursed energy. that was when he decided, he’s sure. but again, there were countless other times where gojo recalls falling deeper and deeper in love with you. he smiles at that, capping the skin care bottle before quite literally jumping onto the bed.
“argh... satoru, what the hell? you’re heavy!” his weight was crushing you, emphasised more when he leans down to plant kisses on your features. the feigned anger turns to giggling and shielding hands which he easily seizes between his fingers.
“s-stop! ’toru!” your smile is like the first few hues of dusk. it makes him feel all warm and mushy inside, something the strongest normally wouldn’t have the luxury of feeling. satoru says, fuck it, because even i deserve love, even i deserve to be held. he repeats those words you said to him the first time he broke down in front of you, and he does it all the time, now.
gojo is brought back to reality when you cup his cheeks gently, not minding the slimey stuff as you caress his skin. your hands accommodate his smile, cheeks filling up with how he’s grinning down at you and you feel dizzy with the immense love you have for him.
“you’re insanely beautiful, satoru,” you say it like it wouldn’t boost his ego, but you can’t care much when that much is true, noticing how much his hair resembles starlight and how his azure eyes catch the moonlight so perfectly.
gojo could say the same about you.
he sucks in a breath when he hears the compliment, the familiar cocky smirk and corny line lingering on his lips — he figured it’s just different when the words come from you.
“say it again.”
“hm? you’re beautiful, terribly b—” your mouth parts in surprise when the other lowers himself to your side, which prompts you to lie on your lone shoulder.
“no, my love, i meant my name.” gojo pulls you closer, lighting your skin with flames.
“oh! okay! uhm, sa— toru?” you giggle, the name falling weirdly from your lips now that you were demanded to say it. you try again, “satoru.”
your lover smiles, scooting closer, “again.”
“satoru.” the syllables leaving your lips makes him feel dizzy and giddy. while he enjoys being told his voice sounds like silk and syrup, he finds that it fits you better, bringing his face to rest only inches from yours.
“again.”
“satoru,” you whisper, a shy smile overtaking your lips. soon, they’re captured by gojo’s, moving tenderly against yours. you’re certain you see the sky painted in many different colours before your eyes close, the mere thought of gojo sending you reeling and cheeks flushing.
gojo’s kisses are slow tonight, savouring every part of your mouth before he slips his tongue in, entwining with yours as he continues to make you fall harder. it works. breathlessly, you smile into the kiss to hopefully get a bit of air, feeling the reply of a grin on your lips when his irises open up to look at yours.
“love you.” you murmur, ghosting along his lips before he smashes his lips against yours again, albeit clumsily that you two let out collective laughs.
people only ever call him gojo satoru, the strongest. he’s never found much identity, always a pawn for the higher-ups to play with, but when sa-to-ru falls from your lips? god, he can compare it to being caught in cupid’s arms. you give meaning to his name — satoru, satoru, satoru, you whisper, knowing that it meant enlighten, and he’s certain that’s all you do whenever you’re around.
you’re always lighting up his life, always loving him with no restraint.
“angel?” gojo whispers in between kisses. you respond sleepily, tracing incoherent patterns along his chest. the words are caught in his throat when you fingers go over the 悟 of his name, three syllables packaged into a single character. he didn’t expect you to remember, but it breathes some life back into him when you do it over his heart. he can’t remember the last time he let someone trace his name so intimately.
“your first name is beautiful, satoru, just like you,” you peck his lips. “now rest, you have a long day tomorrow.”
“i love you too,” the other replies a little late. his heart clenches up at the sight of you, caged and safe in his arms that he isn’t sure what to do with his hands. “i love you. i love you. i love you so much.”
with one last lingering kiss, you both succumb to slumber in peace, with gojo satoru’s first name in the palm of your hand, and his last name aching to take its place in front of your own.
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